


Blue Wings

by Ratha_FireSong



Category: The Hobbit (2012)
Genre: Baggins Family, Faerie Blood, M/M, Took Family - Freeform, Took Family Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-28
Updated: 2012-12-28
Packaged: 2017-11-22 17:43:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/612496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ratha_FireSong/pseuds/Ratha_FireSong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There has always been talk of the Took Faerie blood that is shared with the Baggins of the Shire, but Bilbo never thought he would truly have such a strong connection to it. On the deathbed of his beloved, he would truly cherish the blood of his family to save Thorin's life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blue Wings

**Author's Note:**

> I had always loved fics or stories involving faeries. It is said in the books that the Tooks had faerie blood, and the Baggins are related to the Tooks as well. Which means that Bilbo would share in that faerie blood as well. This is also from the inspiration of a roleplay with a dear friend and a lotr fic about Pippin and his faerie blood.

There has always been things said about the bloodline of the Tooks; there was something strange about them. It was an old story that one of the ancestors of the Took family took on a faerie bride, a queen in fact. Their offspring of course had magical blood in them and would do strange things that was less hobbitish then most who lived in the Shire care to comment on. The Baggins were family with the Tooks and shared their bloodline. Sometimes there were quiet hobbits of the Baggins, but then there were the others; the ones who dreamed of dragons, who would frolic in the forest on some magical quest or dreamed of the land outside of the Shire. Most of the Shire would shake their heads at the offspring of the Tooks and Baggins as they ran by but no harsh whispers would be heard since the families were far too respectable.

Bilbo had that very nature as young hobbit, and cherished his family heritage until his older years and understood the gossip around. After that, he decided to grow up to be a proper hobbit. That was until a company of Dwarves and an old wizard walked up to his door step at Bag End. The hobbit was soon taken upon an amazing adventure that he had only dreamt about in his youth. Not only did he go where no hobbit had ever been before, he fell in love.

Never in his wildest of dreams, Bilbo thought he would fall in love with a prince let alone a dwarf but it did not matter anymore. He loved him, utterly and incandescently. The hobbit, who had become their burglar and friend, wanted to leave his place in Shire and live among the men and dwarves in the shadow of the Lonely Mountain. Thorin had found a home he had lost and one with his love Bilbo.

Everything was perfect, until the battle.

Men had asked for gold and the Elves were not pleased by the dwarf’s return causing the proud Thorin to throw off his calm nature and call the banners for war. Three armies would meet in front of Lonely Mountain and would lay claim to the treasure inside.

The hobbit was dressed in his Mirthril chain mail shirt with leather tunic over it and other such light armor upon him when the king walked in the chambers. Thorin was dressed beautifully for battle with his oak shield strapped to his forearm. His dark eyes looked over his lover with a concerned look and he took Bilbo’s hands gently.

“You cannot come to battle with me Bilbo.” Thorin whispered as pulled Bilbo close to him. “I will not have you die on me on the battle field. I cannot protect you in the heat of battle.” His fingers caressed his cheek. “You are my treasure and I won’t have you taken from me now that I have you.”

“I need…I need to be by your side.” Bilbo retorted. “I can’t just sit here and wait for news of you dying!”

Stubborn as ever, but Thorin loved that about the Halfling.  

“Please. Do this for me and I swear when I return, we can start our lives together.” The king said finally hearing none of Bilbo’s pouts. He leaned down to capture the hobbit’s lips ensuring his promise before he pulled away from him. The hobbit watched the dwarf king leave the bed chambers while he stood their dressed for a battle he would not be a part of.

The battle of three armies never started since the arrival of dark tidings by Gandalf telling them that an army of Orcs and Wargs were coming lead by the Pale Orc that Bilbo himself had faced. The dwarves on the battle field signaled to Erebor that the Elves, Men and Dwarves would band together to fight off this army. It gave Bilbo relief that Thorin would not be fighting two different armies, but he also knew the strength of this darker army coming to the land.

As the hobbit watched, he saw the horror of war. Even if he was far away there were times the Halfling had to look away looking pale and sick from the death he witnessed. He knew that he would see a bit of fighting, but nothing like this. There was a gasp throughout the sentries of the mountain when the fifth and final army came; the eagles. Bilbo could not see Thorin anywhere and when he demanded to go down to the field with his sword in hand, Fili would stop him telling him that he was posted there by his uncle’s orders for protection. Damn him!

The day trudged on and Bilbo lost how much time went by until he heard the horns of victory. It appeared that the Orcs were driven off and the field was littered with dead; friend and enemy alike. The hobbit looked about as the wounded were brought back to the kingdom for healing. His heart was pounding hard looking for his lover to come strolling back with that grin on his lips.

There was no king walking in proudly, no grin of victory. The surviving members of the company brought Thorin upon a stretcher, their faces drawn in a solemn look. Bilbo felt his heart drop and his knees became weak.

“Throin!” Bilbo ran to the group as they laid the king onto the ground. He fell to his knees and looked over the wound on Thorin’s chest. It looked as if a large sword buried itself in the dwarf’s chest and no matter how tight the healers bound the wound, it would not stop bleeding. His face was pale and his breathing was shallow with pain.

“I-I should have been there…” Bilbo sobbed as he took his lover’s hand. “I should have saved you! I did it before!”

Thorin only smiled weakly and shook his head at the hobbit. “Do not…weep for me, my love. It will only…dishonor my memory.”

“I don’t want you to be a memory!” The hobbit yelled. There was an odd warmth inside him. Something he had never felt before, but he ignored it. “I want you to be with me! I want to grow old with you Thorin…to live our lives together! You promised!”

Thorin’s eyes started to close and his breath was becoming slower with each inhale. His soul was slipping from the world of the living and Bilbo was kneeling there watching his only love die. The heat started to grow until it consumed the Halfling. There were people talking around him, but he could not hear their words over the roaring in his ears. It felt like he was lost in cold fire, flames licking his skin that only made him shiver.

“Thorin! Don’t leave me!” Bilbo screamed in sorrow and his eyes widen. Blue wings of flame came sprung from his back but somehow did not rip his clothing. He could hear Thorin hiss in pain and he could see not only life coming back to his lover, but his own soul. The hobbit’s gaze went to the wound watching it healed, as if a red hot iron was pressed against it.

It was when Thorin was healed to the point of living, that Bilbo felt his own soul slipping away. He could feel the sensation of falling, but he did not feel the stone floor of Erebor. Around him were multicolored flames and his own body was pulsing with many shades of blue. How long would he fall? Would he even land on ground or would he feel falling through the fire for eternity? This place was so familiar yet so distant in Bilbo’s mind. In a way, he knew this place yet he had never been there before.

That is when a hand grabbed him. A hand of a man he loved dearly, the only hand he had felt in intimacy and in love. Thorin’s voice called to him from beyond his world and Bilbo was called back to his body in the mortal world. He was cradled in the old wizard’s arms and his hand was clutched by his dwarf lover. Concern was painted on both of their faces as the Halfling slowly came to.

“W-What happened?” Bilbo gasped softly as if he had been holding his breath. “Thorin…I thought you were dying.”

Gandalf huffed in annoyance as he was passed into the king’s arms. “Your Took blood was showing!” He shouted but it was more out of fright for the Halfling then anger. “You were surrounded by your fae form and you brought Thorin back from the brink of death. But in doing so, Master Baggins, your soul was being pulled back into the faerie world. We would have lost your soul if I didn’t have the skill to bring you back.”

“Fool of a Took.” Thorin muttered shaking his head, but his arms only tightened around Bilbo to keep him close. His lips brushed over his cheeks softly and the hobbit sighed happily knowing that his lover would not leave him. He was never so happy to have Took blood inside him, or he would have lived alone at Bag End for the rest of his life, miserable and empty. His eyes fluttered closed feeling weak from his ordeal and the lovely warmth of Thorin’s body against his own.

“Even if you frightened me to death, little thief,” Thorin whispered in Bilbo’s ear as he watched him drift off to sleep, “You looked beautiful with blue wings.” 


End file.
